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Rainy Day


I began my day, called to breakfast. The table set, day-old scones heated, bacon and eggs, tea. Afterwards, I took the call from India. It’s impossible to imagine a voice coming from a hut in the middle of a forest. I find myself asking a person to risk change, be direct, ask for what is needed.

Here, it is rainy again. I took the dog to the field, nevertheless. We returned muddy and wet. Every day I am humbled by my limitations. I ask myself, What am I not seeing? Where are my blind spots? Am I vulnerable with my loved ones? What do I risk? Do I  judge myself too harshly and consequently judge others? How is my Metta practice working? Is that even the right question? What about forgiveness? Of myself and others? And how did that YouTube titled NO ONE CAN WRONG ME magically appear on my phone the moment I needed to understand something important this very morning?

Enter the evening hours gently.  Wash your face. Be amazed as the light dims. Kindly address yourself. And when you look into the face of the other, tenderly let your eyes rest in their gaze.

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